Chapter 26
Kasik had felt a prodding in his chest and thought it merely the quiet discomfiture of his soul. Or perhaps a nudge from the
gods. But when he turned to find Nina pale and shaking, he knew he was entirely wrong. It wasn’t his conscience that made
him pull up short. It wasn’t a sudden surge of pity that stole his breath. It was Nina and her godlike power digging beneath
his skin, searching for a hold of his will.
Capac was unsteady beneath him. The forest on either side of them was whispering frantically, as if it had heard a salacious
secret and was spreading it far and wide. Nina’s pulse skittered beneath his thumb.
“Kasik, I—”
“If you want to kill me, then go ahead.” He pulled her closer and pressed her hand against his chest, right over the beating
drum beneath his bone. “But at least look me in the eye while you do it.”
Nina yanked away. Illari shifted closer to Capac, pressing their legs together. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, Kasik.”
“Then what is it you are doing, Nina, because you are driving me mad. You have made it perfectly clear that you do not want to be here, and I know for a fact that you could stop me if you chose
to. So, what are you doing?”
“I have made my choice, and I am sticking to it. That is what I am doing. Surely, you can understand.”
Her tone was mocking, but Kasik knew he deserved whatever she threw his way.
“Why did you come back?” he asked, remembering what it had been like to watch her throw that stone at the achiyanga, her face a blur of fierce shadows and sharp edges.
He was at once terrified of the truth he knew was coming and hopeful for the answer he wanted. “Why did you save me time and again?”
“I don’t want your blood on my hands.” It was so simple, the way she said it. So obvious that Kasik was embarrassed he had
thought anything else of it. “We aren’t enemies, but we aren’t allies, either. You belong to the emperor.”
So do you. We are the same, he wanted to say. Instead, he asked, “Would you have told me about your power?”
Nina sighed and shifted, but her leg stayed pressed against his. He was endlessly grateful, though this touch wasn’t his to
have. The red tunic she now wore was a stark reminder of who she belonged to, who they both belonged to, and once they were back at the kancha, Nina would marry Maicu and Kasik would head north to join Samaq and his
men. They would finish collecting the Harvest and then return to celebrate Inti Raymi.
Life would go back to the way it was before he was sent on this mission.
He could continue to avoid his tayta and Maicu, could continue to pretend like one day, he wouldn’t be taking Atik’s place
as the emperor’s right hand. But these things would happen whether or not he wanted them to.
“No,” Nina finally said, eyes downcast, fingers plucking at a loose thread in the hem of her tunic. “I don’t think I can trust
you.”
Kasik clenched his teeth and looked away. Down the road, into the trees, anywhere but at Nina’s imploring eyes and downturned
mouth. He was weak. Maicu had been wrong to trust him with this. “Then why not kill me so that you could be free of this?
Why let me take you against your will?”
Closing his eyes, he waited for the fingers of her power to pluck at his soul, for her to rip it out of his body like she had the t’ira, but all he felt was a gentle brush.
A pleasant tickle that made him want to lean in, to press his lips to her skin, to breathe her in. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted—
Nina’s power disappeared, leaving a void in his chest that hadn’t been there before. Kasik fought the urge to press a fist
against it to hold it all in.
“I refuse to absolve you of this,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper but challenging, nonetheless. “You have
made your choices, and now you will live with them.”
Kasik opened his eyes. Her face was close enough that the world behind her had begun to blur. “And if I cannot?” he murmured,
his gaze darting to her mouth.
Beneath them, Capac and Illari leaned closer, their bodies supporting one another. Even the trees and their leaves seemed
to dip lower, just as he did. Time seemed to stall. It was only them and this moment, this choice swirling in the space between
their bodies, dark and delicate and consuming. An ember waiting to catch and burn everything to the ground.
“Then make different choices,” Nina said. As if it was the simplest thing in the whole world. And perhaps it could be. She
made him want to riot, to forsake the vows he had made to himself and his emperor, to shuck the expectations of himself and
embrace the wild chaos that seemed to follow Nina like a cloud.
But he knew the truth of that darkness and the dangers it held. He remembered the stories of the gods with power, the way
it drove them mad with an unquenchable thirst.
He knew they would all be safer with her in the emperor’s hands.
It was that thought that betrayed him. Nina stiffened and yanked away, her absence sucking the breath from his lungs.
Illari huffed and skidded sideways with the abrupt movement.
He watched as Nina’s eyes hardened, as her mouth turned down into a severe and uncompromising slant, and the warmth from her skin on his faded to a lonely, regretful cold.
So much had happened, so much had changed, and yet nothing at all. It seemed as though they were fated to be forever at odds.
And for reasons he could not explain, Kasik bemoaned that most of all.
They burned away whatever had happened between them by running the achipumas through most of the night. When they did stop,
Kasik didn’t bother to light a fire. The sky had already begun to lighten from a deep blue to a soft purple. He only let Nina
rest until the sun’s orange light peeked through the trees, and then they were off again. She didn’t complain, though he could
see the way she grimaced and shifted every so often.
Now they sat side by side, their legs close but not touching, so that the heat of her was only a faint impression. Below,
stone walls cut through vibrant green grass like a snake. On one side were mountainous forests as far as the eye could see.
On the other was a sprawling city which, from where they stood, looked like a maze of small stone buildings from the gates
to the center where Qorikancha sat.
The temple of the sun god sparkled in the late-afternoon light. It spread from one end of the walls to the other, the brown
stone interspersed with flecks of gold that Kasik knew were the size of his head. It sat above everything like a sentinel,
each level higher and brighter than the one below it, stretching far up into the sky as if to reach the gods themselves.
Directly behind it was Amaru Kancha, a formidable fortress set atop a shallow hill with Qorikancha at its gates and the continuation of those stone walls cutting it off from the mountain.
Kasik could see the main building, where the emperor slept and ate and lived, and the kallankas where he and his men slept.
The training grounds were a large, bright green circle amid the stone.
The last time he had walked those grounds, he had been following Samaq. Watching as his only true friend met with the empress
in secret and spoke in low tones and familiar touches. Kasik couldn’t shake the memory, but it was going to have to be a discussion
for another time. With Samaq, hopefully, so he could understand before jumping to conclusions, and not with his tayta, who
would be waiting for them in Amaru Kancha.
Dread filled Kasik’s belly, but he swallowed it and dismounted. “We’ll walk from here,” he said. Nina obeyed without question,
sliding off Illari with more grace and confidence than she had when they first met a fortnight ago. He remembered the way
she had torn at her robes. The way she had refused his help. The way he had been both impressed and exasperated by her determination.
So much had happened, and the memories would be all he’d have of her once they reached those walls. Memories that he would
shove away until they were all but forgotten.
Back on two legs, they stood side by side, beholding the city before them. The homes in the capital were small and laid out
in neat rows, their roofs peaked in the center to imitate the mountains around them. There were paths of green between them,
and leading to the doors of Qorikancha was a winding dirt road where the people gathered on market days and celebrations.
People dressed in varying shades of red and blue milled about, tiny pinpricks of color against the browns and greens. There
was a slight chill in the air that meant that winter was fast approaching, and with it, the end of the Harvest and the first
day of Inti Raymi celebrations.
Soon after, the streets of Vira would be transformed.
Snow would cover rooftops and fill the spaces between homes.
Families would spend more time inside around their fires.
The walla would exchange their sleeveless tunics for layers of coats and fur, and travel would become more difficult and less frequent.
Kasik glanced at Nina. She was studying the city with something akin to awe written across her features. He wondered what
it looked like from her eyes, and how he would manage to avoid her once he returned. “This is your last chance to kill me,”
he said lightly.
Nina laughed, and it eased the knot in his chest ever so slightly. “Not today,” she said somberly, pausing. “It’s bigger than
I thought it would be.”
It was as if she was drinking in the sights and sounds like she would never see them again. As if Kasik was walking her to
her death. It was what she had said, all those days ago, and it hurt to know that she still thought it.
The city was his home, and usually he was grateful for it. The excitement, the crowds and the noise, the possibilities, but
today it weighed on him. He would miss the eerie quiet of the Tuta Kulla. The fresh air and cold streams, the murmur of the
wind and whispers of creatures. The presence of Nina at his side.
“We should go,” he said, mostly for himself.
With a sigh, Nina stepped forward. He joined her a moment later and together, they walked toward their fates.
“Kamayuq Kasik,” one of the walla said with a nod as Nina and Kasik approached the large iron gates. There were two, both
in simple red tunics with small achillas at their throats. “Welcome back.”
Behind them, the gate opened with creaks and groans.
He would suggest to Maicu that it needed to be serviced.
In fact, it wasn’t a bad idea to inspect the entire wall.
He couldn’t get that one word, kukuchi, out of his head.
Though he had brushed Shayim off when she shared her omen, it still poked at his mind. Surely, there was
no harm in taking the extra precaution to ensure the safety of the capitol.
Kasik gave Capac and Illari the sign to follow, and they obeyed, keeping pace close behind. From the corner of his eye, Kasik
saw Nina, arms crossed over her chest against the chill, watching the gate slowly open. She looked lost. Something he had
not, in all their time together, seen from her. Kasik had to resist the temptation to reach out and ground her with a touch.
To remind her that he was there at her side, traversing the same path.
But it wasn’t the same path. He was returning, and she was discovering. They were on two different journeys, worlds apart,
and he found himself once again admiring the way she swallowed down that uncertainty, straightened her shoulders, and held
her head high as they walked past the wall and into the heart of Vira.
Storefronts lined the road, small houses peeking from behind, and though he had traveled these roads all his life, he felt
like an outsider. Like a figure on display. The people watched them travel with wary interest. They stopped what they were
doing to stare, hands held up to hide their mouths and their whispers, their gold bands and rings catching the light and Kasik’s
attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he was in the city this way, among the people and the markets without a reason
to rush by, but he never remembered it feeling so unwelcoming.
Kasik turned to Nina. “Come on,” he said, stepping up to Capac’s side and extending a hand. “We’ll ride the rest of the way.”
To the walla, he said, “Take Illari to the enclosure and see to it that she’s fed and watered well.”
Only a few heartbeats passed before Nina’s hand was in his.
He was surprised she complied so easily, and even more surprised when he settled behind her on Capac’s back and she didn’t so much as shift away.
It took only one click of his tongue before Capac was leaping down the road and Nina’s hair was lashing against his face.
Kasik knew he couldn’t protect her once they were behind the kancha walls. They would be no one to each other once again.
But he could at least do this; save her from the judgment of strangers who had no idea who she was or what she was sacrificing
to be there and serve their empire.
But he was also doing this for himself. The quicker they arrived, the sooner he could be done with this mission. He could
walk away and forget Nina’s heat, her penetrating stare, her dangerous curiosity.
Perhaps only then, with time and space, he could forget that he had ever wanted her at all.